“Thou dost tremble, Kate; has thy fear not left thee yet?”

“Nay,” came soft and breathless from her full red lips.  “I am still afraid.”

“But what dost thou fear now, so close wrapped?”

“I know not; ’tis a strange fear.  If thou shouldst be taken from me, I should die; ’tis this I fear most of all, and even for a separation—­nay, nay, I could not live.”

“Oh, Sweet, ’tis excess of gladness that thou art wife—­wife, the word alone fills me with rapturous exaltation.  Wouldst be glad if we had never met thus, should separation come?”

“Nay, a thousand times, nay, these moments are worth more than all my life heretofore.”

“Hast forgotten, I must leave the castle before very long, and an adieu must be said to thee?”

“I have not forgotten, but ’twill only be for a day.  ’Twould be hazardous for thee to go until everything is quiet about.”

“And until I have quieted thy fears; until I have told thee of a strong man’s love—­my love for thy glorious, youthful beauty.  Thy hair, Kate, is more precious than all the amber and bronze the world holds; ’tis rich, soft and heavy, with glorious waves.  Thy face so filled with love’s blushes warms my breast where it doth lie.  The glory of thy eyes that are ever submerging me in their azure depths.  Thy slender, white neck and graceful sloping shoulders.  Indeed, Sweet, thou art wonderfully made.  There could not be a more perfect being.  And thou art mine, Sweet; ’tis a wonder that rough man could be so blest.  Thou dost often feign coldness, Kate, and now I wonder where thou didst find such condition.  ’Twas most unnatural, and how thou couldst so well assume it—­but I have found thy true heart.  Sweet Kate, thou hast at last fallen victim to Cupid’s darts, and fortune hath played me fair and put me in the way to receive such priceless gift, whose dividends are to be all my own.”  His warm words came so fast and he was so passionate and tender that Katherine took fright and thought ’twas not like Sir Julian to be so, and yet to have him otherwise? nay, she loved him thus, and she remembered the moment he had pressed her hand as they rode through the forest; aye, he could be as loving and tender as—­as—­She did not finish the thought, for her lord’s jewelled fingers had caught her hand and his arm held her close, pressing her tenderly; his lips resting upon hers until she grew faint with his ardour.

At last night paled into dawn.  The cocks began to crow lustily.  About the edges of the great windows in the chamber the light began to peep as if loath to cast one disturbing glance athwart the room.  There was a fluttering sigh from the folds of the maiden’s handkerchief as her lover bent over her, saying,—­

“Adieu, Sweet, adieu once more.  Let me kiss thy eyelids close until they pent these tears that parting hath wrung from thee, and yet, were they not, I would be without weapon, void of panoply, equipped not—­”